Miley Cyrus and the Downfall of Society... OR... You are a Prude, Get Over It.

I got pregnant two weeks before my 18th birthday. Did this happen because when I was 9 years old, I saw a video about a young teenage girl getting pregnant by her hot, yet greasy, boyfriend and telling her Papa to not preach? ORRRRR, did I get pregnant because I was a foolish girl whose parents didn't pay enough attention to her and never talked to her about getting on birth control even after they KNEW she was having sex? If you blamed Madonna, then this post is for you.

When I was 10 years old, a song called "I Want Your Sex" came out on the radio. There were two types of parents back then... the parents who just let us listen to it and sang along, and the parents, like my favorite aunt, who thought it was inappropriate for 10 year olds to sing and changed the radio station. Nowadays it seems we have three types of parents... the ones who sing along, the ones who turn the radio station, and the ones who blame those songs, music videos and musicians for raising their children wrong and ruining society.

I'll just get to the point... I am completely OVER everyone complaining about Miley Fucking Cyrus. The VMAs were weeks ago, and yet people are still posting all about it on social media. "My daughters love Hannah Montana, how am I supposed to deal with this!?!?!?!" Well, first of all, you should know that Hannah Montana was a fictional character created by a massive corporation to sell your children products, and boy did they ever make their money's worth. Second of all, the person who played the character of Hannah Montana is a REAL person, who is no longer a 15 year old girl and who is trying to experiment with her life to figure out who and what she is, just like 99% of us did at that same exact age. Did I necessarily want to see Miley's flabby baloney buns gyrating against a foam finger? No, not really. I found it sad, like she was trying too hard. Then I went back and found all the pictures of me with my tongue out trying to be crazy and obviously trying WAY too hard and thought... OHHHHHHH, I guess we'll all stupid at that age.

Here it is... if you don't want your child listening to Miley Cyrus or idolizing her, then don't let them listen to it. I know this is a horrible thought, actually taking CONTROL of what is influencing your children, but trust me, it is possible to do. I understand it is SO much easier to blame others for your failings as a parent, but you are only doing a disservice to yourself and your kids. Kids do not need to get everything they want. Period. I like all kinds of music, most of which is not appropriate for my three year old. So you know what I do?? This is amazing actually... when I am in the car with him, I listen to music that is appropriate for him to listen to. When he is OUT of the car, I put on my hard core gangsta rap or death Satanist metal and regress to my 17 year old self. I don't let him watch music videos that I don't think are appropriate, I don't watch TV shows in front of him that are inappropriate and I don't take him to rated R or PG-13 movies because, again, I find them inappropriate, and also I don't want to ruin other movie watchers good time by bringing a terrified toddler to a movie that is way too scary for his Disney Junior brain. I know!! It's amazing!! How do I live my life!?!? I can't tell if parents today are just selfish assholes who themselves want to watch the VMAs so they let their 6 year olds watch, or if they are so scared of saying "NO" to their children, they'll let them stay up until 10 pm on a Sunday so they can watch it. Either way, that is your failing... not the failing of a 20 year old girl.

I'll tell you right now what is destroying our society... participation trophies and vagina shorts. Participation trophies show our children that mediocrity is something you should be rewarded for, and vagina shorts show your daughter's vaginas. Maybe I'd take the parents bitching about Miley more seriously if they weren't the same mothers listening to Britney Spears in the car while riding around with their 10 year old daughters already wearing makeup and wearing vagina shorts. Just so you know, as much as I don't want to see Miley's flabby butt cheeks, I also don't want to see your 10 year old daughter struggle to keep her vagina in her shorts. And that is all I have to say about that.

Things I learned in the past week

#1. Do not watch any Nicholas Sparks movies while pregnant, no matter HOW bad the acting is. I can now say I cried at a Miley Cyrus movie. Awesome.

#2. Frozen dairy can pretty much solve all problems.

#3. Don't let your three year old help you use the juicer. My husband actually discovered this one... idiot.

#4. Adding on to #3, if you have to go to the emergency room, go at 7:30 am on a Monday. No lines!!

#5. My new due date is 3/17/2014, pretty much guarantying that I give birth to a ginger leprechaun. Or beer!

And one thing I didn't learn... how the heck do I add photos to this damn site? I used to just click on the picture, but now it acts like it is uploading and never does. I must investigate further...

Week 7

I went to the doctor last week and we saw the heartbeat, however we couldn't see much else. My doctor thinks I'm not as far along as the charts are saying. Thanks to the fact I got pregnant as soon as I got off the pill, I have no idea what my cycle is and so I don't know when I got knocked up either. Basically I'm going to estimate myself at about 7 weeks and we'll figure it out later.

My body has begun producing its own Hawaiian Dark Tanning Oil. The good news is, I'm pretty brown. The bad news is, I look like my chest has started taking meth because it is totally broken out and it is oily and DISGUSTING. Also, when it gets above 85 degrees, my ankles put on a protective coating of water giving me that ever sexy, very desirable CANKLE. It turns out, when I'm pregnant, I morph into Mama June (you know, honey boo boo's mama). I'm just waiting for my toes to start attacting flies (high five to you if you get that reference). My husband is one lucky sonofabizzzz.

I dont have much else to update as things are pretty normal around these parts. My admin did bring me a tub of ice cream in case of emergencies at work. She figured out pretty quickly that only frozen dairy products can soothe the firey pregnancy rage that pops up every once in a while.

PS. I have NO idea how to work this new HTML blog crap, so just pretend there is a photo of me eating ice cream right here <---

Surprise! Week 5

Once upon a time, in a kingdom far, far away… in the land of Delusion, there was a beautiful young princess. She met her prince, fell in love and got married. Soon after, she was blessed with her perfect pregnancy. Her cravings included organic tomatoes and fresh green salads and coffee enemas. She never got swollen fingers, or had problems putting her shoes on because her feet had doubled in size and they now looked like Fred Flinstone’s. She cried once watching a commercial because she just felt SOOOO emotional, and she even swore at her husband twice. She was doing half marathons into her 8th month because it just felt SO good to run. She gave birth and was back in her size 2’s before she left the hospital. Her baby was perfect and when he pooped, it smelled like fresh strawberries on a warm summer’s day.

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh…. such a beautiful story. So full of beauty and wisdom and, what’s the word I’m looking for… bullshit. Yes, bullshit is the word.

Now if you are one of those ladies who have been blessed with an easy pregnancy, God bless you. You are very lucky and most women are probably jealous. Do you need to reiterate to the world how wonderful and supportive your husband is, and how your baby started sleeping through the night at 4 days old? NO!!! And do you know WHY you need to stop doing this? You need to stop doing this because you suck people like ME into getting pregnant again because somehow you make me forget that pregnancy for ME sucks.

Pregnancy for me is this… boobs so sore I want to punch my 3 year old the face when he hugs me too hard, fits of rage because I am remembering an argument I had three weeks ago that I lost, and now I am coming up with all sorts of new ammo, but I can’t go back and re-start the argument because people will think I am f’ing nuts, dizzy spells that would be awesome if I was in high school and doing hits of nitrous oxide, but not so great when I’m trying to draft board resolutions.

Pregnancy for me is falling asleep while people are talking to me… at work. I actually fell asleep while drafting an email. Turns out I can type while I nap. There weren’t any actual WORDS, but the fingers kept moving. I am like a chicken when someone chops off the head apparently.

Pregnancy for me is wanting to yell at someone because her highlights are better than mine and because she complains about her “messy” hair even though people spend all kinds of money for her exact “messy” hair. F U.

Pregnancy for me is eating mashed potatoes for lunch, with a side of vanilla ice cream. When I’m two days pregnant.

So if you couldn’t tell from this post, I am pregnant. I haven’t told my family yet (with the exception of my husband) because I haven’t even had my first doctor’s appointment and this is all still very new and terrifying. I’m posting it here because in all honesty, there are exactly three people who read this blog and they probably know (sup Kari) and I’m hoping it will help me express my rage so I don’t kick my co-workers. My first appointment is on July 25th and we will find out then if everything is okay.

Until next time… unless I’m in prison for finding the person who tricked me into thinking pregnancy was beautiful and amazing and I tie her up like a prisoner at Guantanamo Bay and shove pizza and cupcakes in her face until her ass looks like Rosie O’Donnell’s… or worse, MINE.

Bursitis.... not JUST for athletes

SOOOOOOOO yeah... it has been a while since I've written. You might think it is because I have totally gotten on the ball; going jogging every day, lifting weights, doing 200 crunches, making salads and quinoa casseroles with brussell sprouts, but you would be TOTALLY WRONG. So let's take it back a few weeks...

Tbill's daycare was closed before Labor Day, and I had to take a couple days off. I decided to bring him to work to visit everyone because he hadn't been there since he was a wee baby. I bring him in, everyone "ooooh" and "aaaaaahhhs" over him. He gets super amped up and decides to start running all around. I chase after him. I don't want to sound like a hippo stampede, so I run on my toes, much like a graceful gazelle. Giselle? The deer, not the model. Anyway, as I am flittering about like a butterfly on my toes, I get a sudden sharp pain in my heel, and it hurts. Bad. For over a week. So I finally get into the doctor and I am informed that I have Achilles Tendonitis and Bursitis in my right foot. She asked me if I was a runner and I looked at her with a totally blank stare and said "Seriously? you think THIS runs... like, at all?" Well, apparently Bursitis is usually from being overused. Except in my case, where I'm thinking it was caused by under-use with a sudden unexpected use, if that makes sense. What I'm saying is my body is rejecting exercise. That is the ONLY explanation that makes sense (to me). She told me it can take up to three months to heal, I have to wear these hard plastic inserts in all my shoes and do all these stretches. Basically, it is just annoying. I can still get some exercise in, but to be honest, I haven't done any because I am lazy. When I get done with work, I just want to go home. I have absolutely no motivation to go to the gym after work and even LESS once I get home. This is really something I need to incorporate into my day, but let's face it... it is SOOO much easier to not incorporate it. So, that is something I need to work on. That and not drinking a bottle of wine a night.

Now, here is another issue: my goals of losing weight and my food board on Pinterest are in direct odds with eachother. I know I should be pinning the quinoa salads and 50 Ways to Prepare Talapia, but instead, I pin things like "Slutty Brownies" and "S'more Stuffed Chocolate Chip Cookies". Of course, I'm now sitting at my desk like Homer Simpson drooling at the thought of cookies. And Pizza.  And here is my new brown hair. Okay, bye.

The Good, The Bad and the Pizza

Okay, so when I started writing again, it was because I wanted to keep myself accountable. I figured maybe if I had to show other people what I was going through, I would be more likely to stick with this whole new "lifestyle change" I'm supposed to be doing. But... it is HARD. It is SO FLIPPEN HARD. I read all these weight loss blogs of these incredible women who have changed their lives... and yet, I cannot go one week without pizza. Maybe my issue is that I should have started blogging when I was well on my way. Maybe then it would have been somewhat inspirational! Instead, I feel like I am confessing my sins over and over. 

Soooo... on Thursday, I had a REALLY bad sinus headache. It felt migrainey, but just on one side of my face. None of the medication I took was working, so I did what I do when nothing else is working... I decided to have a cocktail or three. Well, I don't really drink that much anymore, so sometimes I forget how much it can lower my inhibitions, especially when it comes to food. So since I was pretty much drunk town when Ehee got home, he decided to pick up McDonalds for dinner. Well, after I ate my entire dinner, I apparently decided it wasn't enough... so I stole Ehee's french fries, ate half of Trevor's nuggets, and then helped myself to more booze. I felt HORRIBLE about myself the next day. I felt like I was a disgusting human being... when I binge like that I fully hate myself after, yet I continue to do it. For example... today I went to my friend's son's 1st birthday and the nacho bar. I tried to be good... I don't think I was horrible. But, the pizza I just ate for dinner pretty much topped out the evening. Who DOES THAT?? I'll tell you who does that... people on their way to being 678 lbs and fused to their couch. People who have whipped cream running through their veins.

I wish there was some easy fix. I wish that I could just say... okay, I'm DONE with this and actually follow through. I wish when I saw CARBS I didn't go into a shark like frenzy. I wish when I saw a bottle of wine, I didn't go into a piranha type frenzy... you know, like when they see a cow crossing the river, or giant DD boobs floating at Lake Havasu.

So I will end this on a positive note. There have been some good things this week... for example, I got to the gym twice and actually worked out HARD. Hard enough where I felt light headed and shaky afterwards. I also ate pretty well the rest of the week. It's just hard to see the good when I feel so much guilt about the bad. So on that note, I am going to go sit down and read my new In-Style magazine and look at all the amazing fashions that I cannot afford, nor can I fit into them. YET!!! I will get there... eventually.

Setback... and then another setback

Setback #1: I went camping this past weekend with some family and friends and had a GREAT time. The set back being of course, that while camping, I ate camping food. Hot dogs, cheesy eggs with hash browns and apple sausage, beer! I definitely was not as bad as I could have been, but the scale was still THREE lbs heavier this morning than it was last week. I will have to get my butt back into gear to get it off again. Blah. The good news is, Ehee is now on board with this whole "healthier" lifestyle because he wants to lose weight too. That means there will be less temptation around the house from now on!

Setback #2: As you may recall, I have two sons. The 16 year old is known to get into some trouble and has been staying with his dad for the past year and a half to try to get him on the right track. Things have been a lot better between us since the move... that is, until this past weekend. Tmoney didn't go camping with us because I was told he was supposed to work. So when we left on Thursday night, we made sure everything was locked up, the windows were closed and locked and that the sliding glass door was locked and had the bolt screwed in. We waved goodbye to our house and went on our way. Camping ensued.

We returned on Sunday afternoon and everything seemed normal. That is, until I noticed the empty soda can on the shelf next to the arm chair. This raised my suspicions a bit as #1, we don't really drink a lot of soda, and #2, it was ORANGE soda. There is only ONE person in my house who drinks ORANGE soda. The next thing I noticed is that the front door is locked, but not latched up at the top which I KNOW was latched when we left. So, being an ex-stalker as well as just a nosey person, I started thinking... "if I was a teenage boy, and my parents were out of town, what would I do"? So, I decided to check the computer to see if there were any weird sign ins on Facebook. Sure enough, I open it and it is already logged into someone's page. However, it wasn't Tmoney's, it was his friend's. Now, this friend is not someone I want Tmoney hanging around with. He is a known thief (including stealing Tmoney's bike from our house last year), he has a probation officer, he is a known pot dealer AND all his photos on facebook are of him drinking. Since this brainiac left his FB logged in at our house, I decided to go in and start reading his direct messages. Sure enough, I see the invite to a beer pong tournament AT MY HOUSE! Not only was there a beer pong tournament being set up, but apparently there was to be a weed extravaganza. Thankfully the plans never came to fruition because his dad wouldn't let him stay out later than 10 pm (he was supposed to be at his friend's house), but had he extended his curfew, apparently my house would have hosted a really lame teenage party.

I called his father and let him know everything that was going on and then I informed Tmoney that he is no longer welcome at our home when nobody is home (which, of course he is telling people that we disowned him. He is more dramatic than a teenage girl). He lost his chance to go back to Woodward West for the All-Stars week, he lost his cell phone and Internet privileges and I told him I would no longer pay for his online course to get his Learner's Permit.

I get him wanting to come over and even throw a party. Eighties movies were based on parties when parents leave... the thing that REALLY gets me is that he not only had that loser IN my house, but now that loser knows how to break into my house very easily. Needless to say, Ehee is beefing up security and we're looking into ADT. 

So that is my post for the week. I'm back on the wagon and hoping I can lose these stupid 3 lbs, and hoping I can make it through the next week without choke slamming a certain 16 year old. Wish me luck!!